Author's Note: Can't remember where I found this list of prompts, but if someone knows who wrote them, lemme know so I can give credit where it's due.

1. 2 am

They'd been on the ship for eleven days now. Closer and closer to their destination they came, as Imam never failed to remind Jack. He seemed to think it would be a comfort to her—knowing that she'd finally be able to set foot on a planet that didn't promise monsters or convicted killers.

It wasn't.

To her surprise, it was Riddick himself who noticed first. But then, that man didn't miss anything.

"What's eating you, kid?" he asked her one morning after she'd wandered into the common room and unconsciously bumped her shoulder against the door, drawing a soft series of curses. Several of them she'd learned from Riddick over the course of their time together.

Jack took a seat at the table common across from the convict, not looking at him, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the tabletop.

"Nothing," she grumbled.

Riddick grunted. Yeah, like he believed that. But if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to argue.

Jack let her head drop onto the table with a painful slam. It took her head a little while to realize it hurt. By then, she didn't really care.

"I can't sleep," she said, finally.

"That so?" was the response. She couldn't lie and tell herself that she'd hoped for a better reaction. Maybe something that betrayed even the tiniest bit of concern. Anything to make her feel better right now.

"What?" there was a mocking tone to his voice. "Bad dreams?"

Jack actually managed to roll her head off of the table for that one. She couldn't see his eyes through the goggles that he hadn't removed since they boarded the ship, but she gave him as level a look as she could muster before dropping her head back down with a resigned sigh.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Something like that."

She didn't elaborate, and he didn't ask.

Jack lay awake in her bed, staring at the featureless shadows on the ceiling. She'd been fingering the growing fuzz on the skin of her head, wondering how long it would take to grow back. How long it would take before she didn't look like him anymore. How long it would take for him to forget about her once she was safely deposited on New Mecca. He'd leave—she'd grown sure of that. At least, that's what she was most afraid of. Her nightmares had only emphasized that worry.

As tired as she was, she had no desire to seek sleep and the embrace of dreams. She rolled from her bunk and tiptoed out the door on unclothed feet. They carried her to the door she'd come to only once before—the first night they'd arrived. She'd been together with him and Imam for so long—well, just a week or so, but it felt like an eternity after what they'd been through. She'd been used to company when she slept, or at least the surety that someone watched over her while she did.

"Whatcha doing, kid?"

Jack jumped, gasping out loud, as he emerged from the shadows. It was creepy enough that he did that—even worse when she had fully expected him to be somewhere else. But if she really thought about it, she couldn't have expected him to be in the bunk he'd been given. He didn't seem like the type to like small spaces, and she'd never seen him sleep.

"Riddick!" she whispered harshly, angry that he'd caught her at what she'd been about to do. "You scared the crap outta me!"

"Gonna answer the question, or do I gotta think up my own reasons you came to my bunk at 2 am?"

Jack prayed the darkness hid her blush, then remembered he could see in the dark. She prayed even harder those goggles did something to hinder his augmented sight.

"Fuck you," was all Jack could come up with.

"Very creative," Riddick commended her.

Steamed, Jack charged at the larger man, pushing past him and striding back down the hall. Tears threatened her tired eyes, but she wouldn't let them come. Couldn't let herself cry in front of him. Couldn't let him think he'd made her cry—she wasn't weak. She was just…tired.

She ducked into her room and flung herself on the bed, face landing on the pillow. She couldn't breathe through the fabric. She let her lungs suffer for a bit until she was sure she'd staved off the waterworks. When she finally came up for air, though, the first breath came as a great sniff.

"Dreams that bad, kid?"

Fuck. She'd left the door open. Fuck.

"Go away."

"You can come to my room but I can't come to yours?"

"I didn't actually go in," she growled defensively. She could feel the frustration building a knot in her chest, but she held tight to it. Wouldn't cry.

"Who says I'm in?"

Jack turned to glare at him, eyes red-rimmed. He was leaning in her open doorway, as if nothing was wrong. She felt his eyes on her through the tinted lenses. As uneasy as that made her feel, his presence was comforting. But the knot was still there.

"Just, go away, Riddick," she said again, grabbing her pillow and hugging it close. She didn't want him to go—that was the exact opposite of what she wanted. Why couldn't she just ask him to stay?

Stay and what? Watch her while she slept? Oh, yeah, that'd go over well.

"Okay," he shrugged himself off of the door frame. "If that's what you really want."

He said it as if he knew what she were thinking. She hated that, too.

"W-wait," she said so quietly, she didn't think he'd hear it. Hoped he wouldn't hear it. She actually flinched when she heard him take a step back and stick his head back through the door.

"What is it?" He sounded smug.

She bit her lip—a horribly girlish thing she'd never been able to suppress when she'd acted like a boy. She did it whenever she was faced with something she really didn't want to do.

"I…I…."

"Spit it out, kid."

"I…kinda…got used to having you guys around," she mumbled finally, turning to look at him almost at the corner of her eye. "You know, when I was sleeping."

"Alone in the dark not quite your thing?"

"Nah," Jack said. "That was always your thing."

There was a short laugh through the darkness. The knot loosened a little.

"Want me to scare away the monsters?" he mocked. "Get rid of the bogeyman?"

"No!" Jack said, irritated, then deflated. "Well…."

He just nodded his head, an ironic and knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Just ask me, kid."

She was too tired to be shocked, but was pretty close.

"You…you'd stay?"

"If it means you're gonna stop being the merry ray of sunshine you've been over the past few days."

She threw a pillow at him. He caught it and threw it back.

"Just go to sleep."

She held the pillow for a couple moments, staring at him, as if scared he'd change his mind the minute she turned around.

"Well?" he gestured to the bed.

Jack smiled. She lay the pillow down and rested her head on it, pulling the bedclothes up to her shoulder, fisting them under her chin. She couldn't keep her eyes open to make sure that Riddick was still there among the shadows, but she made believe she could hear his breathing, like the deep rumble of his voice. She yawned lazily.

"G'night," she mumbled, only half-aware she'd said it.

"Sweet dreams," the amused reply rolled from the shadows.

And for the first time since they'd left that dark planet, she had them.

AN: Any kind of reviews would be welcome—especially ones considering the character personalities. These little things are actually my practice for capturing Riddick and the others on paper so I do them justice. Let me know if I succeed. If I don't, any suggestions are helpful.